Kindred Spirits
by ErtheChilde
Summary: With their misadventure on Velopssi behind them, the Doctor finds he's been given a second chance to strengthen his friendship with Rose Tyler. When the TARDIS lands them in ancient Rome instead of back at the Powell Estates, both of them make discoveries about themselves and come to a mutual conclusion. [TSL Timestamp 02]
1. Part One

_**Kindred Spirits  
><strong>__**by ErtheChilde**_

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><p>'<em>While there's life, there's hope.'<em>

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong>

With their misadventure on Velopssi behind them, the Doctor finds he's been given a second chance to strengthen his friendship with Rose Tyler. When the TARDIS lands them in ancient Rome instead of back at the Powell Estates, both he and Rose make discoveries about themselves and come to a mutual conclusion.

**Beta Reader(s)**:

Irid alMenie. Thank's a bunch for looking this over!

**Disclaimer**:

This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright the BBC. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books and graphic novels, are the sole creation of ErtheChilde and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. Plagiarists will be fed to the lions, in true Roman fashion!

**Warning:**

_Spoilers:_ If it existed in any form of _Doctor Who_ canon, whether television, novelization, or graphic novel, it's probably going to be mentioned here. For this particular fic, anything up to and including _The Unquiet Dead_.

_Canadian Writing British: _As a Canadian, I am not all-knowing when it comes to British idioms, sayings or sang. I write what sounds right to my ears and when in doubt, I look things up on the Internet. So I might not always get it right. If I'm way off about something please drop me a line and I'll correct it.

**DW Canon-Compliance:** Takes place between _The Unquiet Dead_ and _Doctor vs Doctor_.

**TSL Canon:**Takes place between _Kindred Spirits_ and _Worth A Thousand Words _.

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><p>The Doctor didn't like Rome, in any era.<p>

The first time he had visited there, he'd come to the conclusion that it was a brutal and murderous place, replete with slavery, crimes in the streets and everybody stabbing everyone else in the back. Granted, he'd been visiting during the reign of Nero, and he'd been with Susan at the time, trying to keep her from wandering into whatever terrible dangers might seem enticing to a young girl, but that was neither here nor there.

He'd been back a couple of time since then, and although it still wasn't his favorite spot to visit, he'd accepted that in spite of its vices, it was a beautiful city and it did have its occasional charms.

As he looked out across the Capitoline Hill and the Campus Martius, he supposed that was why the TARDIS had chosen to land them there instead of back in Rose's time.

It didn't make him like it any more.

Their misadventures on the planet Velopssi were still fresh in the Doctor's mind and conscience, even if they weren't in Rose's. She had very nearly been poisoned to death by an angry local, and he had barely been able to save her.

The mere thought of that filled him with such rage and nausea that if he hadn't known the would-be-poisoner's people had already dealt out their brand of justice, he would have gone back and torn the place apart village by village to get to the fiend.

The realization, when he'd first made it, had scared him. He hadn't known her three days, and already the protection of one silly little ape child had come to the top of his list of priorities. He had explained it away with the usual bit of detached self-analysis – obviously his grief over Gallifrey and his people was causing him to latch on emotionally to the first creature to show him a bit of kindness since the War – but it still unnerved him.

He didn't know if it was just that Rose Tyler was naturally prone to getting into trouble, or if his own brand of bad luck was rubbing off on her, but so far four out of the five trips he'd taken her on had nearly ended in her death.

Poison aside, he was rather selfishly glad that Rose didn't remember what had happened, if only because it meant he'd gotten another chance to show her the universe without his own issues getting in the way.

So, for Rose's sake he pasted a smile on his face and tugged her out of the console room.

'This is brilliant,' the human girl said, eyes eagerly taking in their surroundings. The Doctor landed them in the corner of a vast, off-white chamber with a high vaulted ceiling and simple mosaic patterns on the floor. It was bordered on two sides by rows of columns, beyond which she could make out a sprawling, ancient looking city. The place was very definitely not the Powell Estate but she didn't seem to care. 'Where are we?'

'Welcome to the Roman Republic,' the Doctor told her, only just glancing at his watch to make sure the time the TARDIS had told him was the right one. He hadn't quite forgiven her for their last wrong landing. 'We're about a generation before the start of the First Roman Empire – prime time for fresco painting and political sculptures, chariot racing and the theater. Even Julius Caesar is alive and well.'

'Oh! So we're going to visit him, then?' Rose asked, excitement rising. Caesar, at least, was a name she appeared to know.

'Mm, maybe not today. He's busy in Gaul right now – but remind me to take you some time. Old Jules is a great bloke.'

'Then what's so great about this place, then?'

'We, Rose Tyler, are going to watch a trial.'

She made a face at that. 'A trial. Like, some kind of celebrity murder scandal.'

'Sort of, yeah.'

'And are we here to save someone from being executed or something?' she perked up.

He raised an eyebrow at her. 'You know, not every trip we take is about toppling alien invasions or stopping power-hungry dictators. Sometimes, it's just about being in a place in time where amazing things are happening.'

'Thought you said it was always dangerous,' she countered.

That had been one of her concerns in the beginning, hadn't it? She'd been intrigued by the idea of danger – excited even. Except it hadn't been the danger that had won her over, in the end. All of time and space wasn't enough for her, but time travel was.

There was a story there, and he wanted to know it, but he wouldn't ask. Not yet.

'It's time travel,' he finally said. 'Of course it's always dangerous. One misstep and you can unravel history – remember what I said about Cardiff?'

· ΘΣ ·

Did she remember Cardiff? Of course she bloody remembered! It was the last thing she did remember!

'Rewriting time and all that?' she prompted darkly, thinking about how that bit with the Gelth had gone more than a little wrong. The Doctor told her that she'd had it out with him about that, but she still felt upset that she couldn't remember anything about it. Apparently she'd even been on an alien planet, but just couldn't remember it.

_Which means it doesn't count_, she thought crossly.

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably. 'Exactly. A bit more complicated then I led you to believe, but then we were in a bit of a hurry so I couldn't explain the exact mechanics of it. Temporal ins and outs get a bit more complicated based on the proportional amount of stress involved, and then you add reanimated corpses to the mix…'

He continued talking, and Rose shook her head.

Normally she would have railed a little more against the Doctor for letting anything muck with her head and her memories, but when he had apologized for everything (both what she could and couldn't remember), she'd let it go. Maybe a little bit of memory was worth losing if it meant he started to open up a little bit.

'…trick is to know when to unravel, and when to let things happen,' the Doctor finished, not having noticed that Rose's thoughts were elsewhere.

Not wanting him to know she hadn't been listening, she piped up, 'So what kind of time is this one?'

'The latter, I think – pretty much the beginning of court-room drama as you know it,' he grinned. 'If I'm right, and I usually am, we've landed in the middle of the trial of Marcus Caelius Rufus. He's being defended by his former teacher and current political rival, Marcus Tullius Cicero for having apparently poisoned his ex.'

'Cicero…I know that name…' Rose mused. 'Oh! He's the one with the big nose, right?'

The Doctor gave her an exasperated but amused look. 'No, that would be Cyrano. Cyrano de Bergerac. French, not Italian, and an excellent swordsman, him. Taught me to fence.'

'You mean he was _real_? I thought he was just a character in a book!'

The Doctor rolled his eyes heavenward, and said something about the state of the education system in the United Kingdom under his breath. She couldn't quite catch what it was, but figured it was more unflattering than the usual complaints about the human race.

'Put that down as someone else I'm taking you to meet,' he told her. 'But not right now – right now, let's go watch some _real_ reality drama. Unless…' He trailed off, considering her sideway. 'You want to leave? Considering it's not the end of the world, might be a bit dull for you.'

'Nothing with you is ever dull,' she answered earnestly, linking hands with him as they walked through the echoing columned corridor.

But privately, she still wondered what kind of trouble they were going to get into this time.

As they strolled, the Doctor started telling her something about the difference between Ionic, Doric and Corinthian columns. To be honest, it went over her head the way his lecturing sometimes did, but she didn't resent it. Not the way she usually begrudged over-educated people prattling on like they were smarter than her. She couldn't count how many times students from the nearby uni would breeze into the shop, their eyes falling upon her with pity and judgement. Like she was too stupid or lazy to do anything _but_ work in a shop.

While the Doctor liked to show off his brilliance, he also genuinely enjoyed teaching her things for the simple fun of it.

'Hear that?' he said suddenly, interrupting his lecture as well as her thoughts. They paused, and she heard the sound of people speaking in the distance wash over her. 'Bet it's this way!'

He quickened his pace, tugging her along with him and she grinned.

He was very much like an eager school boy most of the time. Definitely not a striking, fortyish human with a discernible Northern accent or the sole survivor of a time-travelling alien race.

As they followed the echoing voices, Rose reflected on what she must look like next to him. Nearly-nineteen-year-old-shopgirl chavving it up with an older man? She knew that's what anyone back home would think looking at her now, but she didn't think that was it.

She'd saved London from aliens and watched the end of the world and battled gas zombies in a matter of three days.

_Possibly four, not entirely sure_, she added. _If that doesn't change a person…_

But it didn't, did it?

Mickey hadn't really been changed by his encounter with the aliens. He'd just been terrified. Granted, he'd been abducted by living plastic and only saved at the last minute, so their experiences were different, but somehow Rose knew that even if the Doctor had grabbed his hand in a dank basement and told him to forget him, he would have.

He would have gone on with his life and would pretend nothing had happened. Probably still was.

But the minute Rose met the Doctor, everything had changed. She had changed.

She'd nearly been killed by window shop dummies and got burned up by the sun and met Charles Dickens, all of which had been sad and frightening and humbling and –

And she had known in that moment that whatever her life had once been, it was different now. She couldn't just forget all of that – the wonder, the fear, the staggering realization that the world was oh-so-much bigger than she had ever imagined herself understanding.

She never wanted to go back.

When they had returned to Earth, he had told her what had happened to his people and how he was alone and had given her a choice to stay home or keep travelling with him. Something within her had clenched at the thought of him leaving and she had the sudden presentiment that there was no way she could just stay behind.

She never would be able to again.

Before the Doctor grabbed her hand and told her to run, she would never have been the type of girl to just leave her family and friends without question.

Now she was.

She wondered if she should call him. She'd called her mother to tell her she'd be late, but hadn't really spared Mickey a thought. The notion made her suddenly miss him, but not in a desperate way. More distantly, like a cousin or old friend.

_Cor, was I always such a rubbish girlfriend_?

No, she hadn't been.

She'd gone above and beyond for Jimmy, had put up with so much and given so much more…there just hadn't been anything left to give after him. It had taken two years for her to claw back the parts of herself that she'd willingly given, and there hadn't been anything left for Mickey beyond what they'd always had since they were kids.

He'd always understood that, and they'd never been that kind of besotted and passionate couple. Theirs was the comfortable, complacent relationship of two people who had known each other their entire lives and expected to continue in that way for the rest of them.

At least Mickey did.

Rose wasn't sure she'd ever felt that way, and right now it seemed so far from what she wanted.

In fact, she didn't even recognize herself from three days ago. Or four.

_What am I gonna do when the Doctor does bring me home_? She wondered, sneaking glances at the alien out of the corner of her eye.

What if he decided he'd had enough of her and brought her home, and went on with his fantastic life without her? He'd be all alone and she'd…

_What? Go work at the chippy?_

The idea absolutely terrified her.

Paradoxically, while travelling with the Doctor had made her braver, had opened her eyes to what she was capable of, it also made her greatest fear – being trapped on the Estate for the rest of her life – that much more powerful.

_Just gonna have to make sure he doesn't leave me behind_, she decided firmly.

As soon as this trip was over, she'd ask the Doctor to bring her to check in with her mother. Maybe say goodbye to Mickey and Gran and Shireen, too. She'd tell Jackie she'd decided to take a gap year…and then figure out how to explain the travelling-through-time-and-space thing later.

Because all of a sudden, she could see her entire life stretch out before her, and it was on the TARDIS with the Doctor. The allure of such a life was equal parts the adventures and being around him. Her world had shifted the night she met him, and although it was way too early for her to even consider what that meant to her, she intended to take her new life a day at a time until she could.

But she would also keep herself safe.

The cock-up that had been her experience with Jimmy had taught her an important lesson, not just when it came to romance, but in life. She knew that the more you wanted something, the more you had to hide it from other people – because if they knew how much you wanted it, they would have power over you. And as much as she liked the Doctor, she couldn't give him that.

Or, at least, she would try not to give him that.

He was intense and alien and when she thought about it, Mickey had been right. He could be dangerous. He could be especially dangerous to her.

It had hit her the first time on Platform One when Raffalo had asked her where she was from. She hadn't been able to answer without explaining him, and trying to do that had suddenly underscored the fact that she didn't know anything about him.

_A mysterious stranger says he's an alien and instead of running screaming for the hills I hitch a lift with him_, she thought chidingly.

Never mind that this mysterious Doctor might eat people (which she was very relieved wasn't the case) or could be some kind of interplanetary slaver specializing in humans or any number of horrible other things.

She'd just gone.

She didn't know anything about this strange, sad, wonderful alien, but she had known with a startling flash of insight that her place was beside him.

It was mildly terrifying to be that sure of something, especially considering she had never been absolutely sure of anything in her life.

She tightened her grip on the Doctor's hand, and when he shot her questioning look, she just grinned at him.

Terrified or not, she was very glad it was the Doctor by her side while she experienced it.

· ΔΩ ·

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><p><strong>End Note:<strong> As treat for the fashion enthusiasts, I'll be posting Rose's outfits on my Pinterest. You can find all of them (as I add them) under my Rose Tyler Clothing Ideas board. As for this chapter, you can find them here. This site doesn't let me put URLs, but if you type in the address to Pinterest followed by the numbers below, you can see everything. Or just go searching yourself, everything is labeled :P

Casual: pin/393713192400111272/


	2. Part Two

_**Kindred Spirits  
><strong>__**by ErtheChilde**_

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><p>'<em>While there's life, there's hope.'<em>

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Thanks for reading! Also, shout-out to **TiaKisu** and **narnian2**3 for the reviews!

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><p>'So tell me about Cicero,' Rose insisted as they headed towards the main court rooms in the building. 'Why's he worth going to see?'<p>

'Why not?' the Doctor returned. 'Self-made man, him, I'm sure you can respect that. Worked his way up the legal ladder to consulship, then the Senate – rare, in those days. About ninety-nine percent of politicians came from blue blood families, and they never let him forget it.'

'Something else that never changes.'

'Yep. Though, he was well-shot of that. The patrician class is so interbred these days I'm surprised they aren't all born with six fingers and a tail. Being an _homo novus _obviously never hurt him in the long run.'

The closer he and Rose drew to the auditorium, the louder and more comprehensible the speaking became.

'…_case we try today is clearly one of such atrocious nature, with so criminal a culprit to be charged, that we've come in during the holidays and public games to administer is_,'a dry voice stated over the buzz of dozens of whispering men and women. '_A foreigner happening upon us today might be amazed, for _clearly _they have no appreciation of our law – our courts – our _custom. _But we know the importance of this case is such that all public business must be interrupted for its proceedings_.'

'He doesn't sound impressed,' Rose whispered as they made their way through an archway at the back of the auditorium.

'Bit of a deadpan snarker, old Cicero,' the Doctor replied. 'Had a way with words, he did. Invented the concept of confusing your opponent so much that they stopped arguing with you.'

'So, he's, like, your hero, right?'

'Not really. Bit full of himself, really – couldn't support anything that wasn't his own idea.'

The interior was a large, circular shaped space that was filled with rows of benches and stairs that led downward toward a cleared dais. The place was filled with men in togas and women wearing stolae – although the latter had the less enviable seats.

As they hadn't dressed for the time period, the Doctor indicated to Rose that they should stay to the back of the room and out of the line of sight.

'Just in case,' he defended when she shot him a wry smile.

Down in the center, on the dais, one man stood before the assembled crowd, gesticulating artfully as he spoke. He was in his late forties or early fifties, beardless, and seemed to involve his entire body in his arguments.

'…_yet if you will listen and form your own opinions, you'll see that we have all been brought here simply for the _insufferable_ desire_ _and excessive bitter _hatred_ of another_ _party against my client,_' Cicero insisted. '_And so it seems to me, the most fitting way to defend young Marcus Caelius is to first address the slander his accusers have used to disgrace him – to strip and rob him of his good name_…!'

And here was the crux of why he couldn't stand Rome.

It was here that the well-intentioned but ultimately corrupt profession of law had really kicked off for human beings. Where justice became about how well you could wield your words instead of trying to protect the innocent.

These people, so praising of logic and rationality and rhetoric – so quick to follow protocol for the sake of appearances instead of common sense, where every bit of personality and individuality was stamped out of a person in order to conform to the lofty values that no one even really believed in. Where philosophers and statesmen preached about the greatness and goodness of the State, while across what would one day be the empire, innocent people were being brought to heel because their ways were considered barbarian and the State obviously knew better.

It was so much like the Time Lords.

A wave of grief hit him at that thought.

Before the Time War, his dislike of civilizations like the Romans had stemmed from how familiar he was with their ways. He had spent most of his life chafing under that kind of rule, his own people trying to force him a certain way like a squared peg in a round hole. It hadn't worked and so he had run away.

Now, though, there was no one left to run from, and that hurt more than any real or imagined injuries his people had ever done to him in the past.

Rassilon, how he had hated them! With their rules and ancient protocols and flowery words and their collective inability to tinder an imaginative thought between them!

What he wouldn't give to have them back.

It had been horrible living there, and it hadn't truly been his home since he absconded with the TARDIS, but the option to go back had always been there.

'Were they like this?'

He started and looked down in surprise to see Rose watching him carefully. 'Hm?'

'Your people,' she clarified cautiously, her voice quiet not just so that they wouldn't interrupt the proceedings around them. When he kept his face deliberately blank, she quickly rushed on, 'Only, the way you're looking at them – kind of annoyed, like. A bit exasperated. Kind of how I get with Mum when she does something the hard way just cos she's used to doing it that way. Like texting.'

He was torn between a myriad of emotions that took a few seconds to sort through, even with his supposed superior self-control: pain at the turn the conversation had suddenly taken, amazement at the perceptiveness of this barely-mature primate, indignation at her comparison of his feelings for his people to something as trite as instant messaging, amusement at what the Time Lords would think about that comparison, derision at yet another one of her attempts to get him to talk about his loss

Why did she insist on prying, when she couldn't possibly know what it was like to watch your planet explode into nothingness, to be the last of your species left to –

Oh. Well, she sort of could.

He'd taken her to watch her planet die, to a time when she was the last biologically genuine human in the universe, hadn't he.

It was completely different yet worryingly the same, and again he wondered if that hadn't been his intention in bringing her there in the first place. And again, it was the guilt over that which prompted him to break the uncomfortable lull between them.

She at least deserved an answer.

'Yes,' he said shortly. 'They were very like this.'

He didn't elaborate.

'Oh,' Rose said, because there was really nothing to say to that. She looked out upon the proceedings again, and they were silent again a spell, before she tentatively asked, 'D'you want to leave, then?'

Tamping down annoyance at the fact he hadn't managed to hide his discomfort from ruining her trip, he muttered, 'It's fine. If I turned around and left every time something reminded me of home, I'd never leave the TARDIS, would I? Awful lot of stuffy, high-handed civilizations in the universe…'

'You must've hated it,' she declared, and then winced. She obviously hadn't meant to say that out loud. Quickly, she added, 'Cos you're so…you, I mean. I just…can't imagine you following rules and…and regulations and talking all pretty without every getting to the point.'

'Oi! You saying I don't talk pretty?' he deflected, his volume earning a dirty look from one of the many spectators in the last row.

Rose rolled her eyes. 'Just saying, I can sort of imagine – well, not…not really, I know, but it's like…my grandmother was a bit like that. My dad's mum. All stuffy and disapproving all the time, and she was always on my mum for getting pregnant before she got married and trapping my dad – and she was always with the little, needling comments – about Mum's cooking, my grades, my friends, Mum's job – and I didn't like her all the time. Most of the time, really. But after she died…I still missed her. Little things, like how she smelled like Chanel or the way she ate her eggs at breakfast. Stupid stuff, really, but…' She shrugged, almost in apology for her mundane memories. 'But I keep thinking maybe, if I had more time with her, or if I'd been older before she went, maybe I could've gotten to know her a bit better. Had a different relationship with her…'

She trailed off, looking at something in the distance that he couldn't see. Something appeared to occur to her then because she fixed him with an intense look and asked, 'Why can't you?'

'Hm?'

'Why can't you go back and change it? The War, losing your – just change it? You've got a time ship.'

She bit her lip, like she was gaging his reaction to his words and expected him to finally lash out.

Admittedly, it was an automatic reaction to such a probe, but this was Rose and he intended to make the effort not to do that. It was a simple matter of quietly telling her he didn't want to talk about it, and she would back off –

'My planet and my people exist – existed – outside all of time and space,' he answered before he even realized he was doing it. He blinked at his candidness and saw it reflected on her face; she hadn't expected him to answer.

_Makes two of us_, he thought as he swallowed and kept talking.

'There's a universal constant that ensure no one can ever go back into G – into my planet's past.' Truthfulness aside, it still felt macabre to speak his planet's name out loud. 'And for good reason, too. Imagine, a whole bunch of people like me only without my sunny good nature deciding to go back into the history of the Time Lords and change things. Rewrite laws that are there for a reason, stop millions of fixed events from coming to pass…It'd be chaos, for the brief period of time before it all ended. No, Rose, there's a reason I can't go back. And even if I could, there's no saying that I might not change things for the worse.'

'Like maybe this time you wouldn't survive,' she realized.

'Yeah…' he said slowly, shying away from the old temptation to seek out just such an outcome, the way he had directly after the War. 'Like that.'

They went quiet then, both watching as Cicero paced back and forth as he spoke, neither really listening to what he was saying.

'Why did you come with me?'

The words were out of his mouth before he'd properly considered them, and seemed to hang there in reproach.

There was a shift beside him, and although he didn't look at her – he studiously gazed out at the spectacle happening before them – he could tell she was searching his face for some clue as to what he meant.

'It's a bit strange, isn't it?' he went on, tone deceptively light. 'Some madman in a box invites you to hurtle through time and space, on a trip that could get you killed – almost has done, a few times now – and instead of running as far from him as you can, you come with? Bit of a counterintuitive thing to do, when you think about it.'

He wasn't being critical or judgemental – he was honestly curious. In that moment, he couldn't for the life of him and with all his massive Time Lord brains figure out the reason.

She seemed unsure of herself for a moment.

'S'ppose I decided to come with you for the same reason you decided to come back for me,' she offered, like she was just coming to this conclusion herself. 'You didn't have to. And I get the feeling you never ask people to travel with you once, let alone twice…but you came back for me.'

There was a question in there somewhere, one she refrained from actively voicing but which he noticed nonetheless.

It was his turn to consider, whether he should bother acknowledging that or not. He could just react as usual, could brush it off with a casual explanation of how he didn't like to travel alone and how over the centuries he occasionally picked people up to fill the void of others left behind.

But when he opened his mouth to do so, he found he couldn't. The memory of those lost hurt too much, and the effort involved in telling one of his usual stories – meant to amaze and amuse and, above all, distract – was exhausting.

For once he wanted one person in the entire universe to know something about him that was true.

· ΘΣ ·

Enough time passed that Rose didn't expect the Doctor to answer, and so when he did, she startled a bit.

'There was this look in your eyes,' he told her quietly. 'The look of someone that wants to live their life to the fullest, farthest point possible, but who's slowly suffocating on the inside because of – or maybe even by – the people all around them.'

Rose's mouth dropped incrementally at that pronouncement, and the Doctor finally turned to meet her gaze. 'I haven't read your mind or anything like that. Promised you I wouldn't, even if you don't remember it.'

'I know,' she managed, a bit wrong-footed. 'But how did you…?'

'Just recognized the look, is all.'

'Who from?'

'Me.'

If she had been surprised before, she was shocked now. Even after learning the little bits about his people, she couldn't picture the Doctor ever being anything other than the intrepid explorer.

Rather than dwell on that, though, she considered his evaluation of her. Hadn't she been thinking the very same things about herself not an hour before?

'You're right,' she admitted quietly, feeling both liberated and the slightest bit ungrateful for disclosing that. 'Think you might be the only person to ever notice. And it's just…it's not…' She trailed off, stymied for a second trying to organize her thoughts. 'It's not like I had a bad time of it, really – could've been loads worse – I had Mum growing up, and Mickey and my friends - and they all love me and I love them to bits…but every time I wanted to…to try something different, or do something _more_, they're always telling me I couldn't. Or shouldn't.'

The Doctor felt his expression soften. 'S'ppose they're only looking out for you. Least your people care about you and don't want you to get hurt.'

'Might actually make it worse,' Rose sighed.

'Cos how else are you supposed to live your life if you're afraid to fall down and skin your knees?' the Doctor finished.

'…yeah.'

They shared a look of understanding.

'Tell you what, though,' he said after a spell. 'I've no problem telling you to reach for the stars. No doubt in my mind you'd excel at it.'

The corner of her mouth tugged upward. 'Really?'

'Yeah. What are friends for?' He smiled back briefly, before making a face. 'Well, friend. You're the only one I've got right now.'

Her heart ached for him then, and she instinctively corrected him. 'Best.'

'Hm?'

'Best friend.'

He blinked, and then an unexpected and delighted smile lit up his face, like a small boy on Christmas. 'Really?'

'Yeah,' she agreed. 'I mean, in less than three days you already understand me better than anyone I've ever met – even people I grew up with. So yeah, think that qualifies you for best mate territory.'

It was true, too.

Shireen and Keisha were girlfriends, but she had never told them her innermost secrets. Mum was Mum, who she _definitely_ didn't talk about certain things with, and Mickey –

_Oh, Mickey. _

For all that he was her boyfriend and knew most of her secrets and thoughts, there were still things she just couldn't tell him or talk to him about because he wouldn't understand. Or worse, he would try to placate her or keep her from changing anything about herself.

With the Doctor, she felt like she could tell him anything and he wouldn't judge her for it. Might call her out for being stupid about it, but he'd give her a reason – and he would just as easily tell her she was brilliant in the same breath. Like all he saw in her was potential that she hadn't reached yet.

'S'ppose you're mine then,' the Doctor told her, interrupted her train of thought. 'You know more about me than anyone in the universe.'

They beamed at each other and this time it was the Doctor who took her hand in his, wrapping his long fingers around hers almost protectively.

They stood like that for a while, watching as the arguments of the case slowly transitioned into a more spirited defense. Occasionally, when the proceedings seemed to confuse Rose a little, the Doctor would offer a quiet commentary and backstory, but otherwise she actually enjoyed it.

'I think he might actually be ruder than you,' Rose remarked as Cicero began to call out some woman named Clodia to the amused humour of many of the men around the courtroom.

'Well, lawyers, you know – no such thing as a moral when you're one of those,' the Doctor said with a shrug. 'Caelius is probably guilty as sin – but Cicero was known in his day for defending some rather seedy character. It was all about showing off how well he could argue. You know, he only ever lost the one case?'

'Really? Why?'

'Cos the court was filled with heavily armed, violent looking men aiming for a conviction and staring at the jury with bad intent the entire trial.'

'Oh – well, that'd do it,' Rose murmured, attention falling back on the court. 'Bet a bunch of people here wouldn't mind him shutting his gob.'

'More than a few – his enemies hated him so much that he ended up with his head and hands cut off and put on display in the Roman Forum.'

'Oh, gross.'

'He was dead before that happened,' the Doctor assured her. 'Say one thing for him, if nothing else impresses you – he met his maker in style. The bloke sent to off him showed up, and old Tully's lying on the couch and reading a scroll. He looks up and says, "oh, there you are".'

'Like he's nagging him for being late?' Rose exclaimed incredulously.

'Exactly! Surprised he didn't offer the bloke a cuppa before the deed went down!'

They both burst into laughter.

It was no surprise when they were asked to leave.


End file.
